Wole Soyinka on Obama’s Choice

The Nobel Laureate dissects the message the president's trip to Ghana should send to the corrupt and failing states of Africa.

Wole Soyinka in Nigeria in 2006 (PIUS UTOMI EKPEI/AFP/Getty Images)
Wole Soyinka in Nigeria in 2006 (PIUS UTOMI EKPEI/AFP/Getty Images)

The saddest song to have come out of Africa in recent times was actually composed as a song of celebration, written to mark the ascendancy of an African American to the presidency of the United States of America. It was a musical tribute by a Kenyan, and the lyrics say simply: “It is easier for a Luo to be president of the United States than to become the president of Uganda.”

The Luo are, of course, one of Kenya’s minority nationalities. Obama’s triumph took place, it will be recalled, after one of the most devastating riots ever witnessed in Kenya. It lasted weeks, left entire townships wiped off the face of Nairobi and environs, claimed hundreds of lives—many of them through singularly bestial forms of butchery. The panga reigned supreme. Those days were reminiscent—minus the scale—of the Rwandan massacres. Among the walking survivors are men who are traumatized for life, having been subjected to forced sexual mutilation. The cause? Denial of a people’s right to choose their own leader through the ballot box—that endemic curse of the modern African state. Kenya, nonetheless, made a claim on Obama as the logical spot for his first presidential touchdown on black African soil. It should have been an occasion to be celebrated in festive accents as the return of the native son. If sentiment indeed weighed more on the scale of entitlements than humanity itself, the Kenyan claim would be universally unassailable.

The other, and indeed more presumptuous claimant to Barack Obama’s recognition on his first presidential visit to the continent is, of course, mine, Nigeria. The Nigerian nation has not witnessed an uprising on allied scale to Kenya’s in the last few decades, not since in the mid-1960s when a similar, but far less wholesale, indiscriminate campaign of arson and killings took place in a region that an incoming head of state came to designate “the Wild, Wild West.” There was also the more recent spate of butchery in a northern state or two, but neither came close to matching the sheer brutality of the Kenyan scenario.

Nigeria cannot be ranked, needless to say, any higher on the democratic scale than Kenya, even though electoral robbery did not result in such mayhem, any more than it has led to a protracted civil war like the one that devastated the Ivory Coast in recent times. Nonetheless, it is important to remind ourselves that the Biafran War of secession that began in 1966 did not lack for flammable tributaries from accumulated electoral injustices. Memories of that war, and the fear of an even more nation-destabilizing repeat have contributed to the seeming accommodativeness of the Nigerian people toward a now deeply entrenched project of national disenfranchisement. Only the complacent, however, dare eliminate possibilities of an eventual explosion from the suppressed rage that stems from civic dispossession, and the air of impunity that surrounds the incorrigible perpetrators. Indeed, this inevitability is seen by many—both insiders and outside observers—as only a matter of time. Since the debilitation of civil society through decades of military rule, Nigerians freely use the expression “internal colonialism” as the readiest expression of the continuing suppression of popular will, an orchestrated democratic denial that operates in relay, and is sustained by a select hegemony resolved to remain in perpetual control of the nation. Offering nothing in return, this unproductive cabal has become increasingly arrogant and contemptuous in its dismissal of even a pragmatic semblance of a gesture toward fair dealing that sometimes salves the pride and dignity of a people.

This, then, is the background from which one listens to, or reads of, plaints of resentment and indignation from government cheerleaders at Obama’s symbolic boycott of the “Giant of Africa.” They are lost to the irony of laying claim to recognition by a product of electoral equity, an African American who came to power in a once openly racist nation through the ballot box. Such complainants are not stupid; however, they are merely actors in a script of diabolical cynicism. How else it is possible for such politicians to conceive that a leader like Barack Obama, who has ascended to power through a respect for the manifested will of a people, would actually lend his presence to dignify any state that demonstrably rejects, indeed actively ridicules, the very means that brought him, Barack Obama, to power? Blood, they say, is thicker than water. Obama’s gesture is intended to inform nations such as Kenya and Nigeria that neither blood nor oil courses thicker than equity.